Hayden Ashley

I made 14 paintings in an hour, and then made one into eczema. Which I have a lot of right now. I’m a little stressed. (A lottle stressed.) I’m trying to get some stuff together with my script so that I can work on it. I’m editing some videos right now, so, look out for that. All 36 of you who follow me.  

I have been workin’ on my script much like Fergie been workin’ on her fitness. (Throwback Monday doesn’t exist, but I am listening to Fergie all the same.) I’ve never written a script. I’ve read probably twelve scripts ever in my whole life, and I’ve never had to memorize any of them. 

So. I get anxious and rearrange my knick knacks; instead of working on my work. I think I freaked myself out because I am rubbing salt into a still raw wound whenever I revisit the subject of almost reaching my untimely demise. 

I have the empty tequila bottle still sitting on my counter in my kitchen. I didn’t drink any of it that night, but even just the artifact of those thoughts is hard to tackle. I keep all of my pill bottles in a little Rx bag and I dug out the exact pill bottle that had twenty-eight pills in it on that stupidly terrible night. I think these are important, and I love and hate having them around. Someday in the future they will be artifacts of something I survived a long time ago, but right now it feels like it just happened.

I was too anxious to work on my thesis project last week. So, I checked my email, made crescent rolls, and lay on my floor instead.

Anxiety causes a lot of tension. Everywhere. Mind, body, soul. Painting is a place where I can let go of some of that. I received a note that really struck me during my IP review last December. “It is too controlled.” I was kind of blown away. It uprooted some things that I couldn’t see because I was so close to the work, and I couldn’t see what it was becoming or how it wasn’t communicating what I meant for it to. So, the day after I painted these for my “Where do paintings come from?” final with Jim, who coincidentally was on my IP review panel.

Pictured upper left is a pink bic brand razor. Next to that is a close up of the drowsy guy on my Propranolol bottle. Below is the entire painting of the warning labels on that bottle.

I was given a ton of great notes, and a lot to chew on over break. I look forward to the final shape of this project starting to settle. I’m still working out some logistical nonsense, but that is on the way to a resolution.

The bees are hatching from the raw cracking. A shock of electric stress from the  increasingly rational brain brought them all to life, the little frankenstein monsters. The painful flairs of memory. The what ifs. The oh noes. The woe is me. The bane of productivity.

So. I am new to the world of using myself, my words, my body, as a medium and this is my first modest venture. At least in this respect.

I don’t know how I sound recorded, or what I look like in a moving picture if I am not kicking it chorus girls style, or utterly naked in an experimental dance piece. Dancing is like armor, and maybe it could be incorporated?

I don’t know. I’m excited about what I learned through making this video. I am going to have to memorize this stuff, it wouldn’t hurt to engage with the camera a little, and maybe moving around would help the whole “stiff as a board” thing I have going on here. The best parts are the parts where I am not reading, where I am interacting with the camera and my film human.

Film credit: James Bradbury. Thanks babe.

My babies. My precious prescription cocktail. Different doses and purposes that help me function on a daily basis as I deal with anxiety.

I got some brand new meds this past Friday when I payed a visit to my wonderful and helpful psychiatrist. 

I don’t have to adjust to a new anti-depressant, but an anti-anxiety as needed has been added on top of the other anti-anxiety as needed that I have. This new kid on the block takes care of the physical symptoms such as; elevated heart rate, high blood pressure, sweating, and numb hands. It is a medication prescribed to people with performance anxiety so that they can keep their heads and be able to feel their hands. Klonopin, the drug I take for anxiety attacks and panic, makes me dumb. (I can’t remember how to turn on netflix when I’m on it sometimes.) So far I am liking this new cocktail of meds, but I did take a few days to acclimate. 

Today I recorded some audio, and video of me recording the audio with the help of a very special person. I am about to start editing it, and will upload it on here when I’ve cut something together.

There will be many outtakes and funny faces to come.

I started writing my thesis, which is only 1500 words long, and well, I don’t like writing with “sophisticated” language because I don’t exactly know what that entails. Don’t get me wrong I’m not trying to be knit picky, I am just trying to write a professional grouping of thoughts in the proper context that perfectly articulates my IP. It is hard. Normally my writing is screaming into the void filled with passion, drama, and characterization. 

I do not want to be boring. I am not a boring writer. I fear that I could easily get into the boring bits of things though. So. I am channeling my inner Rory Gilmore. I am going to make canvas sound exciting, and the historical prevalence of mental illness in art palatable, funny even.

That feel when there are only four cars in the parking as I leave the studio on a Saturday night at 12:30 a.m.

Not so rare to be here so late but I feel like I got a lot of great work done this evening. I’m solving all of those juicy visual problems with this painting, and I might start another tomorrow. 

The raw canvas matches my raw scalp, which hurts [like a bitch]. It is nearly past my ear now, and I wish I could blame something other than December reviews, alas I have severe social anxiety so, I blame December reviews.

This is all acrylic work because if I were to put oil and turpentine on raw canvas the canvas itself would erode and die a sad death. Acrylic is essentially plastic and thus suffers far less. I primed a canvas today and might try combining the mediums in the next painting.

So, we are almost to the December reviews for IP. I’m nervous. Very nervous. Hopefully the practice review will help with the shaky hands. I am going to show in progress images, as well as finished images. I am going to bring in a few prints, and my larger painting(s). On Monday I will either bring in audio files or do real life readings of some of my related written work that has gotten some good feedback recently.

I want to show this variety of work because the feedback I receive on it could determine what direction I continue in after December. I am attached to talking about my anxiety through my work. I am attached to painting and illustrating, but I don’t know which form is most compelling- the large scale work, the prints, or even the audio element. POSSIBLY a combination of the lot, which I am not at all opposed to.

My thesis is subject to change, but so far this is what I’ve got: Thoughts like bees is an exploration of my personal experience with the symptoms of anxiety, both mental and physical. Bees are a visual metaphor for my anxious thoughts, and in the images I’ve created they occupy my physical symptoms which include most prominently: nausea, weak appetite, eczema,  numbness of the hands, and shortness of breath. By intertwining the mental and physical symptoms visually I create a connection between the two that would otherwise go unseen.